The Stealer Of Dreams
by Redpanda14
Summary: Sam and Dean travel to Wisconsin to investergate strange deaths, little do they know something is lying in the shadows, looking for the one they call The Chosen One, and nothing in the universe has the power to stop them. Hurt!Dean, Going Insane!Sam
1. Nightmares

**Thank you to Ghostey who beta read this chapter**

**Nightmares**

_As children, we were afraid of going to sleep alone in the dark. It wasn't because of the monsters beneath our beds, or the boogieman in the closet, but being alone in a dark room all by ourselves. But then we also were afraid to fall asleep, where dreams could take an unexpected turn. When we sleep we enter a world of imagination where anything was possible, but were not always lollipops and candy canes. There dreams can turn into nightmares at any given time, but sometimes we have to face our nightmares, sometimes we have no choice._

"Daddy… please don't turn the light off," Rebecca cried, "It's stormy outside and I don't want to be left alone in the dark." She tightly gripped her blanket and brought it as close to her chest as she possibly could.

"Rebecca there's nothing to be afraid of," he reassured her, "We're two stories up so nothing can hurt you. And if you need me I'm right across the hall." Her father gently kissed his daughter on the forehead. "I wish your mother was here," He trailed off, turning to a family picture which was encased in a silver coral frame on the bedside table. He picked it up and stared at the picture. The mother had wavy red hair, stunning green eyes, and she looked no more than twenty five when the picture had been taken. He flipped the frame over and undid the backing to reveal blue writing on the back that read Rebecca, Steven and Mary forever. Steven began to feel tears sting his eyes but quickly wiped away them away, not allowing his daughter to see him in this state. He redid the back of the frame and returned it to Rebecca's nightstand. "You can keep the lamp on… okay? Goodnight Rebecca," he said tenderly as he left the bedroom, leaving the door open a little bit. Rebecca shrunk into her blanket burying her head in the pillow, trying to ignore the sounds of the storm outside. Before long she drifted off to sleep and into her dreams.

Rebecca woke up late the next morning, realizing that her father had forgotten to wake her up. She was already thirty minutes late for school so she quickly got changed into her cloths then went into the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she was done getting ready, Rebecca searched the house for her father but he was nowhere to be found. She rushed back up the stairs and banged on her father's bedroom door. "DADDY!! IM GONNA BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!" Rebecca yelled as loudly as she could. After a couple of minutes she turned the door handle which was stuck because it was very stiff but she eventually jiggled it open. She crept into the room, and although the blinds were down and the lights were still off, she could just make out the outline of her father in bed. Quickly she walked over to the blinds and drew them open, turned around and screamed.

- - - - -

Sam had already gone through about fifteen newspapers looking for any sort of case. Over the last couple of days now there had been no signs of demonic or spirit activity, it just seemed to be... well... quiet all over. Sam put down the newspaper he was reading and began to pull out his laptop from his bag but stopped as Dean came out of the bathroom.

Dean strode over to his bed, water trickling down his body from his hair, towel wrapped low around his waist. "You can have the shower now Sam." Dean grabbed his jeans off his bed a slipped them on, after which he pulled out a black shirt from his duffel bag he kept under his bed.

Sam grabbed a towel from the pile near the bathroom door and his cloths and headed in. After stripping down, he hopped into the shower and turned the taps on full blast, placing his hands flat against the ceramic tiles allowing the water to stream along his back. Sam had been having nightmares in the last couple of days, waking up in the mornings drenched with sweat. Sam tried to ignore them but it was getting hard to do, and to make it worse Dean had noticed it to. Sam brushed his hand though his hair and let the hot water wash his troubles away.

After Sam had finished drying himself off he pulled on his jeans and a brown shirt. He closed the door behind him and sat down on his bed. Dean, who was sitting at table, was chewing on some toast and grabbed a newspaper from the never ending pile. "Did you read this newspaper?" Dean asked, flashing the paper towards Sam.

"No, I hadn't got to that one get." Sam tied up his shoes and sat down at small plastic table next to Dean, who began to read the front page article.

_In Hayward yesterday morning the body of Steven Marshall (34) was discovered in his bedroom mutilated by his eight-year-old daughter Rebecca. Officials believe that he is the latest victim to a rash of brutal killings by a large animal and connections to the earlier deaths are being investigated. There were no signs of break-in or tampering with the property, however officers are urging citizens to stay indoors at night and to lock all doors and windows. If there anyone had information in regards to these killings please contact the number below. _

"So what you think Sam? Could be dealing with a werewolf, the lunar cycle is just about right." Dean gave Sam the paper who immediately went over the article a couple of times reading word for word.

"Yeah maybe, the lunar cycle did kick in last night so it's possible," Sam grabbed some toast from the pile and began to eat.

"Okay then. That settles it. I'll start getting our stuff packed," Dean finished off his piece of toast and began to grab his and Sams' things together.

Sam finished off his own last bit of toast and went over to help pack up their stuff. "I'm so not gonna miss this place, it's as run down as that motel in Indiana when we fought that banshee." Sam finished packing all his gear back into his duffel bag and went outside to place it in the trunk of the Impala. Dean shortly followed lugging his gear behind him.

After a couple of minutes Dean headed to reception to give back the key and quickly headed back to the Impala, Sam was waiting inside the car head laid back against the back of the chair with his eyes closed. Dean slammed the driver seats door closed and started the engine which gave off the distinctive roaring sound.

"How far to Hayward Sam?" Dean asked, pulling out of the motel's parking lot and turning towards the highway.

"About six hundred miles." Sam said rubbing his eyes trying to get back to sleep.

"Geez you've been tired over the last couple of days." Dean pulled out an AC/DC tape from the cardboard box that he kept in the back seat. "Maybe this'll wake you up." Dean placed the cassette inside player and turned the music up, and to make it worse he started to sing along with it.

"Jerk!' Sam turned the music down and tried to get back to sleep but he was wide awake now. He gave up trying to sleep and pulled out his laptop to start researching local history.

After about ten minutes Sam closed his laptop and put it on the backseat cushion.

"So what have you got?" Dean asked. With the Impala on the open road he sped up a little.

"Well, there have been seven deaths in the last week in Hayward caused by mutilation, stabbings and so on. The one that stands out the most is the first victim, Alex Miller. He was found by his son in the middle of the night blood gushing out of his eyes and mouth."

"Well that changes things, think we could be dealing with some kind of vengeful spirit? Kinda like Bloody Mary or something?" Dean fiddled with the review mirror then turned him head towards Sam.

"Possibly, but from what I can tell the victims have no connection what-so-ever. And I've never heard of a garden variety spirit ripping someone's heart out. I just don't know."

Dean faced the road ahead of him. "Yeah, well just have to find out when we get there, nothing much we can do yet." Dean turned the music down for Sam and focused on the road ahead.

- - - - -

"Joshua you're not well… please get some sleep, you need to rest. The doctor wants you to get a good night sleep before the operation tomorrow." Amanda said, kissing her son. "I'll be back in an hour or so okay? I promise I'll come straight back," the mother left the room closing the glass door behind her.

Josh stared out at the rain hitting the window, it was pretty dark outside for this time of morning, and it was nearly ten. Joshua had never liked hospitals; they always gave him the creeps, even when he was a toddler. He had just turned thirteen yesterday and of course he had to be stupid and break his leg in multiple places, serious enough to get himself hospitalized. After about ten minutes he decided to catch up on the rest he hadn't got any last night. He lay back against the pillow and went into a deep sleep.

The nurse on guard of the pediatrics ward had just finished her rounds. The ward only consisted of five kids so it only took a couple of minutes. She sat down at her desk and started to update the patients' status. The lights on the ceiling suddenly began to flicker on an off, causing the room and corridor virtually pitch black. The computer screen went into a frenzy of motion, causing black and white pixels to appear.

"What the hell?" The nurse exclaimed, turning the screen off. Figuring it was faulty wiring, she picked up the phone to dial the number for maintenance but only got static. Great!" The nurse got up and grabbed the flashlight that she kept in the desks drawer. Slowly making her way down the pitch black corridor, she checked on each of the children fast asleep in their rooms. After checking on the kids she made her way back to reception.

"Excuse me miss?" A man tapped her on her shoulder. She turned around and pointed the flashlight beam towards the figure and screamed. The man's skin was as pale as moonlight, maggots crawling from his flesh, and bones poked out awkwardly from all over his body. The man pulled out a cutlass which was attached to a belt around his waist and drove it straight through the nurse's stomach and the vanished into thin air.

Joshua had this thing for pirates, loved anything and everything related to them. They excited his imagination and he always dreamt about them. But lately his dreams felt different… more controlled... more real… descending into nightmares. He had just had one then, he tried to wake up but it was as if something was trying to keep him asleep, forcing him to.

Josh finally awoke when he heard a faint noise coming from the corridor. "Is there anyone out there?' Josh lifted himself into the wheelchair that was next to the bed, carefully trying not to put any pressure onto his leg. He wheeled himself out to the hall just in time to see the nurse collapse onto the ground, pool of blood forming from what appeared to be a stab wound. Josh didn't know what to do, the nurse tried to speak but her mouth was filling with her blood. She reached out and grabbed his leg.

"Pirate." she said so quietly Josh didn't even know what she said before falling unconscious. Josh pushed the wheel chair as fast as he could to the reception counter and slammed down the emergency button.


	2. Resurrection

**Resurrection**

_Every single creature on earth has an irrational fear of the dark, thing is it's not irrational. In the real world the darkness is veil between the real world, and the world of nightmares. What lies in the dark, dwelling in the shadows are beyond the knowledge of fear._

Dean pulled the Impala into the motels parking lot closing the car door behind him. Sam had fallen asleep somewhere two hundred miles back. Dean left him there and headed over to reception to get the key.

The bell rang at the door as Dean pushed it open; a woman appeared from the side-door behind the counter. Dean being Dean checked her out immediately, she had long brunette hair that went down to her shoulders, sparkling blue eyes and lips that Dean could not take his eyes off.

"Hello sir how may I help you?" She took the check in book from behind her that was in a shelf and placed it on her side of the desk.

Dean snapped out of his trance and replied "I'd like to book a room for a couple of nights for me and my brother. Two queens"

The woman flipped through her guest log and found a free room. "Ok then, I jut need some identification and where all set."

Dean pulled out his wallet and pulled out his new fake drivers licence since the last one had to be gotten rid of due to unexpected events with the Banshee in Indiana. He pushed the licence towards her who carefully studied it then inserted the information into the book.

"Ok, Mr Ackles where all set heres your room key, hope you and your brother have a pleasant stay." She passed him room nineteens key.

"Thanks." Dean swiped up the key and headed back the Impala. "Sleeping beauty it's time to wake up." Dean nudged Sam who slowly opened his eyes, pushing Dean away.

"Jerk!" Sam grabbed his laptop from the back seat of the Impala and dragged himself out of the car, exhausted he grabbed the key off Dean who didn't react at all to his grumpiness and opened the door to room nineteen. As son as Sam opened the door he immediately flung himself onto a bed, leaving Dean to lug the baggage from car.

Dean chucked the duffle bags onto the nearby floor and shut the door behind him, pulling the chain across then locking it. "Are you feeling ok Sam? You don't seem yourself lately." Dean sat at the edge of the bed that Sam had collapsed onto.

"Yeah just peachy." Grumbled Sam into the pillow. "I've just been having bad dreams lately." Sam flipped on the bed and sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Visions? Or just nightmares?" Dean looked at Sam concerned.

"Nah just really bad dreams, nothing to get concerned about. Ever since yellow eyes died they stoped and they haven't resurfaced so stop worrying Dean." Sam got up and sat down at the nearby table puling out his laptop.

Dean got off the bed and sat next to him. "We still have no-idea what were facing, no spirit I've come across has ripped out someone's heart, and no werewolf would cause someone to die from blood coming out of the eyes and mouths. It just doesn't make sense."

"Dean there's been another death." Sam turned around the laptop to show a picture of a young nurse. This only happened this morning…well that takes the werewolf theory out of place," Sam sighed. "She apparently got stabbed in the stomach; no one knows by what, she was the only nurse in the hospitals pedriact ward."

"Was there any witnesses?" Dean exclaimed.

"Not to the actual death but apparently some kid named Joshua was the one that sounded the alarm, but by the time help arrived she was already dead." Sam closed the laptop.

"We should go have a talk to Joshua; maybe he might be able to tell us something."

- - - - -

Sam and Dean walked up to the hospitals administration desk in there suits, Sam pulling out his fake FBI badge showing it to the woman at the counter. "Hello I'm here about the murder this morning, I heard there was witness, Joshua? Do you know where I could find him?" Sam let her look at the badge and then put it back into his front pocket.

She typed something onto the computer and clicked a few times. "Joshua Hendricks, he came in yesterday with a broken leg." She clicked a few more times and pushed enter. "He was moved onto the sixth floor, he's having his operation in an hour or so" She looked back at Sam. "Is there anything else I could help you with?"

"No thank you, thanks for your time." Sam nodded and he and Dean walked towards the elevator.

After reaching the sixth floor Sam and Dean searched the rooms for Joshua until finally finding him, his mother sitting next to him. Dean knocked on the glass door, the mother turning around from her son to open the door.

"Yes can I help you?" The mother leaned against the doorway crossing her arms.

Sam flashed his ID to her "Hi I'm Sam and this is Dean. We are inquiring about the death of the nurse that took place this morning, we were hoping Joshua could give us some incite to what happened?"

"I'm Martha, I can give you a minute to talk to him but he has to go have his operation in an hour, so you probably only have five minutes." Martha moved aside to let Sam and Dean in.

Sam went over to the bed while Dean started to chat up Martha. "Hey, mine names Sam; I'm here to ask a few questions about this morning." Sam pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed. "So you were the one that found her right?"

Joshua moved awkwardly in his bed. "Yeah…I found her on the floor."

"Were there any strange noise? Flickering light before this happened?" Sam pretended to take notes in a notebook which he had pulled out of his trouser pocket.

"I don't know….I only just woke up when I heard someone out in the corridor, by the time I got out the door I saw her collapse onto the ground." Joshua fidgeted a little more awkwardly in the hospital bed.

"Are you ok? You seem a little distracted?" Sam put the notebook down on the chair.

"Yeah I guess...Just something she said before I went to hit the alarm…" Joshua stared towards his mother who Dean was still chatting up.

Sam leaned forward towards the teenager. "What did she say?"

"She said….I thought she said pirate." Joshua avoided Sam's gaze. "It's stupid I know, but I swear that's what she said." Joshua lay back burying the back of his head deep into the pillow.

"Thank you. Sam pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Josh. If you remember anything else call this number, no matter how crazy it sounds where here to listen." Sam wrote down his number on a bit of paper.

Josh took the piece of paper from Sam and put it in the drawer next to the bed. "There is one thing….before I got up I was dreaming about pirates, maybe I just imagined her saying that."

"I'm sure your right, you were probably just so shocked from what you saw you where hearing things." That tiny bit of information now had Sam on edge. He had now a pretty good idea at what they were dealing with. And that it wasn't going to stop until it had found the right person, the wrath of the Mara was beckoning.

- - - - -

"I'm going out! I'll be back soon." Mitchell Blake said to his wife and daughter as he left the house. Mitchell was the typical dad; he had a wife and daughter he cared for more than anything in the world. But lately, his daughter had changed. She had stopped talking to all her friends at school, hardly talked to him and his wife anymore. She would just go to school, come home and head into the forest behind our house and not come back until tea time then she would go to bed. Mitchell and his wife Mary had been discussing if there might be something wrong with their daughter. In the past few weeks she seemed distant from the world, as if she was living in another reality, another universe. The other morning Mitchell decided to follow his daughter into the forest to see what she had been doing for the past few weeks. He had followed her into the deepest part of the woods; she sat down on a rotten old tree trunk and started having a conversation with then air. This worried Mitchell deeply. When Mitchell had confronted his daughter asking what she had been doing in the forest, she got angry...angrier then he had ever seen his daughter before. She talked about how her new friends don't like him, and to stop asking questions. Otherwise they'll have to deal with him. This scared Mitchell, the way she had spoken those words frightened him deep down. The next few days to come would change his family's life forever. The Chosen one had been found. And no one could stop the creatures....no one.....

- - - - -

Tyler tucked his son into bed; it had been a very sad day for both of them....his wife had died of a brain aneurism early this morning. She had been diagnosed six months ago, she was only supposed to live for three months, but she was a fighter. She gave the best six months of her life to her son Hayden. After Tyler said his goodnight, he left the room and turned out the lights.

Hayden always loved Space, when he grew up he wanted to become an astronaut and explore the Universe. Discover new creatures, new planets. He had watched every single movie that involved the concept of aliens. From 'Alien' to 'ET.' So closing his eyes, he dreamt of the stars and the creatures with them.

Tyler hopped into his bed, he turned to face his wife, but no one was there. He missed her already...he placed the pillow in his face and cried. _Thud! _Something heavy had fallen onto the floor. Tyler turned on the lamp that was next to his bed. It was just his wife's book she had been reading before her untimely death. 'The Stand' by Stephen King. He turned off the lamp and lay back into his bed. _Thud! _Tyler went to turn on the lamp, but it wasn't there. _Thud! _What was going on? _Thud! _Someone or something was in the room with him. _Thud! _And it was getting closer. Something wet fell onto his shoulder; Tyler touched it with his shaking hand, it felt slimy and sticky. He looked up...a giant figure was on the roof, the creature had no eyes just a long face. A sharp dagger like tail behind it moving as if it was taunting him. If he wasn't emotional from his wife's death, and it wasn't right before his eyes, he would have thought it looked exactly like the creature from 'Alien'. He ran towards the door, but didn't make it, the creature plunged its tail into his chest tearing upwards blood spurting all over the room until his body lay lifeless. The Alien pulled its tail from out of the motionless body and vanished, as if it was never there.


	3. Black Magic

**Black Magic**

_Even before the Universe came into existence, creatures from the dawn of time had already mastered the art of black magic. Before any other being. They used it for trickery, causing mischief and pain to all those around them. No one knows exactly what they want. All that is known though, is there are certain children called 'The Chosen Ones' who rightfully belong to them. And nothing can stop them, because they can take away the air we breathe, electrocute us without even touching us. But that is the way it is, they are part of us, and we are part of them. And they are going to take what rightfully belongs to them. No matter what._

_This is the way the world ends,  
This is the way the world ends,  
This is the way the world ends,  
Not with a bang but a whimper._

It was 3pm now, four hours had passed since there visit to the hospital. Sam had been quite since, he had been buried in his laptop in total silence except for the tapping of the keys. Dean was watching him in disbelief from the bed, as soon as Sam finished talking to Joshua, Sam hadn't said a word. He looked scared, Dean tried talking to him but it was if Sam had drifted off to another world, another universe.

After another hour of total silence Dean had finally had enough. "Sam?" Sam continued on tapping away. "Sam?" Dean repeated. Still no reply. "SAM!" Sam's head rose from behind the laptop. His face was as pale as moonlight.

"Huh?" He replied.

"Dude, you've been on that thing for hours and haven't told me a thing. What's going on with you lately? You hardly talk to me anymore. Please tell me what's wrong. Do you know what were dealing with." Dean took a deep breath, It's true though, for the last few months Sam seemed distant to him. Dean had tried to find out what was wrong but I guess Sam just didn't catch on.

"Sorry, Dean. I've just been caught up in my research." Sam said, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"Well, yeah, I can see that." Dean got up from the bed and strode over to Sam. "So, do you know what were dealing with?"

"Sam? Sam? What is it? Don't go being all weird out on me again dude."

"It's called a Mara."

No, it couldn't be. That's not possible. "Repeat that again." Dean swallowed hard.

"It's called a Mara. No one knows where they came from, they've just always been around, as far back as i can find. There the reason the word nightmare exists. They make your worst fear come true, take control of it and use it against you. From what I can tell there is no sure fire way to kill it." Sam had put his laptop aside onto the table and now was standing up in front of Dean looking into his eyes; he could see the fear in them, childhood memories resurfacing. Every muscle in Dean's body tensed up, the colour draining from his face. And he had a right to be scared, The Mara still haunted Dean's childhood, the one thing that made Dean afraid to sleep at night, the reason he kept a gun under his pillow.

- - - - -

When Dean was ten years old he saw his best friend from the school Dean was attending. Bradley, his name was. Him and Brad had been best friends for the 3 months Dean had been there. He always knew that when the time came, John would make them move again. They had always been on the road back then. Only staying in each town from one week, to six months.

Brad wasn't a very popular guy at school, he still didn't know why someone like Dean would want to hang out with a nerd like him. Though I suppose he liked the company. Brad was a fairly skinny guy, spiky brown hair that sort of reminded Dean of Porcupine quills and oak brown eyes. His skin slightly tanned; obviously he didn't get out much. At school, you'd always find him in the library studying for a test or revising over work. The only physical activity he did was Karate, only because his mother insisted he got out there and make friends. He was wearing a green and white striped T-Shirt which only just fitted with a pair of blue jeans.

He remembered that walk in the forest all too well; Dean and Brad were walking back from school through Stone Edge Woods, one of the oldest forests in the area. The wind started howling through the dead tree branches, the rotting leaves rustling under Dean's feet. The sky turned dark, the wind was blowing even harder now, Dean was literally clinging to a tree to keep from flying backwards. Though in the midst of it all, there was Brad, untouched. He just stood there looking up into the treetops. Dean looked in the direction were Brad was looking, and what he saw was ghastly. Something from your worst nightmare, they flew down from the tree-tops. Their skin was the colour of the rotting leaves under their feet, the veins bulging out from under the bone dry skin. They had black lips that were as dark as a black hole and claws as long and sharp as carving knifes. Their wings looked dead; you could see where the bones were.

The howling of the wind stop sounding like one continues noise, and more and more starting to sound like a voice, an ancient raspy voice, yet so kind and musical.  
"_Come away, O human child!  
To the waters and the wild  
With a faery, hand in hand,  
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand."_

But they weren't talking to Dean, they were talking to Brad. Who was still just standing there, untouched by the elements.

He turned to Dean. "Dean...I'm sorry, but I have to go, there is a better life out there for me. I don't belong here, I never have."

"What do you mean? Where are you going?" The wind stopped howling, and the clouds were lifting.

"To the Far Place, I belong there; I always have, every night I have dreamt of it. The place is beautiful, no war, everything is perfect. I belong to them Dean. Thank you for always being there for me, your the best friend I could of ever asked for." Tears started rolling down his face. "You have always been there for me. Even at the start when you punched Max Barbell in the face when he slammed my head into a locker. And you didn't even know me then." His face turned back to the Mara. "Thank you, for everything." He ran over to the Mara, tears rolling over his stained face. The Mara turned into these tiny white creatures. Their wings bathed in moonlight. Brad turned back to Dean, who was standing there speechless, scared, frozen with fear. "...Dean I'll be ok. Goodbye." He turned back as the tiny little creatures engulfed Brad in a dazzling white light. Bradley eyes were red with tears, then he whispered back. "I love you." But Dean never heard. Then he was gone.  
The woods were silent, no creatures stirred, no wind blew, just pure silence. "..Why Brad, why?" Dean cried and ran home to John and Sammy. Dean didn't look back afraid that he might see those creatures again. Even though as brave as Dean was, and though he had to be strong for Sammy, to keep him safe. But Brad was the best friend Dean had ever had; he was like a second brother two him. But now he was gone, for all Dean knew, those creatures had killed him. _'Keep running.'_ Dean kept telling himself. _'Don't look back, just keep running.'_ He still had no idea what just had happened, everything seemed so wrong, so...certain. The way Brad looked at him before he was taken by the 'Mara', he didn't looked scared at all, it was if he had always known what was going to happen. Dean stopped running and collapsed to the ground. "Why!!! How could you!?!" Dean slammed his fists down on the layers of leaves harder and harder until his hands were covered in blood. When he got up, he started running home. And this time he didn't stop,

When Dean got home, he didn't know how to tell his dad what he saw and what happened. I mean, he had seen Were-wolfs in east Texas, Wendigo's in the Minnesota woods, even Kelpies in Colorado. Creatures he could only to begin to understand. But this creature wasn't a demon, or spirit. There were no words to describe it. So when he got home he just explained to John what the creature looked like, didn't tell him about Brad. He just acted if he was never there. But inside he cried, bottled it up, trying to forget it. The next thing Dean knew after telling John about the creatures was John rushing out the door and driving to the woods leaving Dean to look after Sammy. John came home hours later saying there was no evidence to say something was there. Dean knew all too well that what happened was real, that it wasn't something he had just dreamt about. The very next day they were on the road again.

- - - - -

"Dean? Dean? Hello, is anybody in there?" Sam waved his hand in front of Dean's face, trying to snap him out of his daydream.

Dean finally snapped out of it. "Huh?"

"Dean are you ok? You look like you're about to cry" Sam scanned Dean noticing he had been scratching his hands so hard that he had taken at least 3 layers of skin off, blood coming out of the wounds. "Dean! Stop scratching!" Dean looked down at his hands realizing what he was doing.

"What the hell..." Dean went to the bathroom to clean up the blood and put a dressing over it. "By the way, I am NOT about to cry." Dean called out from the bathroom.

"Uh huh, now will you explain to me why you look like scared. Have you seen these Mara before? There's no real description about them, every story is different, some say they are sprits that create nightmares, and others say there a demon."

Dean grabbed a wet cloth and cleaned his face up. After all these years, he had always wondered that same question. _'What were they?' _And after all these years he finally knew the answer. Even if Sam didn't know, Dean had actually done research for once in his life, to understand what happened that day, to figure out who the Mara are, and finally he knew.

"The Mara are part of us, part of our world, yet we know nothing about the. So we pretend to know what they look like, we see them as happy, and imagine them tiny little wings that are bathed in moonlight. But they're not. Think dangerous; think something that you can only half see like a glimpse, like something out of the corner of your eye, with a touch of myth a touch of the spirit world a touch of reality all jumbled together. Old moments and memories that are frozen in amongst it, like the ring spinning around a ringed planet, tossing, turning, whirling backwards and forwards in time. They have the power of the elements. Water, Fire, Wind, they can take away the air we breathe, turn the world to ice killing everything in existence. That is what the Mara are Sam, and nothing can stop them. You have no idea what they want.

Sam looked at him puzzled. "And you do?"

"Yes Sam I do!" Dean snapped back. "I know, because I've seen them Sam, I know what their capable of."

"How?" Sam was pushing for answers now, his brother knew something and he was determined to know what.

"I just do ok! Shut up, get out. In fact, screw you, I'm leaving don't expect me back until late." Dean grabbed the Impala's keys off the table and slammed the front door behind him. Sam standing stunned at what had just happened. Something was seriously wrong, he could feel it.


	4. Memories

**Memories **

_Memory is a human gift we have of preserving what we see and feel. It allows us to share what we experience and make connections with the world and people around us. Memory is the thread that binds us to one another. Through memory we learn to learn to love, to trust, to share. If the soul is what makes us human, then perhaps memory is the thing that helps make us humane. Memories are all we have left, as time passes and we age, we can look back on our past with those memories we treasure for life._

Dean was sitting on a small wooden bar-stool in the 'Viking Draught' bar. It was now well past midnight, the bar was completely empty except for Dean sitting by himself. The smell of cigarettes lingered in the air, Dean coughed a few times as he inhaled the stale, smoky air.  
"Another beer please." Dean said to the bartender as he waved him over. This was Dean's fifth drink, by now his words were becoming slurred.

"I'm sorry sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. We're closing for the night." The bartender put away one of the glasses he had been cleaning with a white cloth. Dean placed a crisp new fifty dollar bill on the bench and walked out the door. The sign being turned around to reveal big bold black letters reading 'CLOSED'.  
Dean walked awquardly down the street, legs criss-crossing left to right and every other direction imaginable. Now where did he park the Impala? He couldn't remember. A beautiful brunette walked passed, Dean stopping to get a good look. "Hello, hello, hello. How are ya?" Dean's speech was getting worse by the minute. "Wanna have a good time?" Dean the girl's arse. She couldn't be any older than nineteen.

"You son of a bitch, get off me!" she exploded, and slapped him as hard as she could across the face. Dean's head rocked to the side from the force of the blow, and sent him reeling backwards. His foot catching on one of the garbage bins on the sidewalk, falling backwards into a man who just happened to come walking around the corner.

"Ouch!" he whined tellingly.

"Hey watch were your going!" he said, pushing Dean back the other way back towards the brunette. Who started screaming again at him.

"What do I look like? A prostitute!? Do you think I want to be groped by old men like you? Sicko!" she took another step forward. Dean backing away expecting another slap. His face had gone bloodshot red now from where he had been slapped. But bumped back into the guy he had fallen into. Dean was cornered.

"Excuse me miss, has this guy been bothering you?" The guy was only a couple of years younger than Dean, he had blue eyes. If you were in a dark room, you could use them as a homing beaking, they were as bright as a lighthouse. He looked pretty strong too, but Dean was stronger...when he wasn't drunk that is.

"Yeah, this...freak grabbed my arse! Looking for a quickie no doubt, you barstard!" She spat in Dean's eye.

Dean finally mustered up enough breath to speak, his hand covering the red mark left behind by the girl. "I'm sorry; I didn't know what i was doing. I'm trying to find my car, It's a-a-"Dean's voice trailed off. He couldn't remember what his car looked like!

"Your drunk mate, come on, I'll give you a lift back to my places and you can find your car tomorrow. I'm sorry miss about this guy. I'm sure he didn't mean to grab your arse on purpose." He said, trying to sound sincerer.

"Yeah, well. I guess you're right." She turned back to Dean. "But if you ever touch me or come near me again, I'm calling the cops. You got that?"

"Understood and again sorry." The girl storming off and disappearing around the corner.

"That was close. Anyway, let's get you back to my place. You're in no state to be walking, let alone driving anywhere." The stranger grabbed Dean's left arm and placed it around his shoulder hoping to keep the drunken guy upright. They began walking up the street back past the bar which Dean had originally been in.

"Yeah." Dean chuckled slightly. "I can sort of tell. You don't have to do this you know. I don't want to be an inconvenience." Dean said.

"It's no problem." The guy grabbing his car keys out of his pocket. "I've been out all day; it's me and my wife's tenth anniversary in three days so I've been out buying necessities." They turned right, crossed the road and stopped at a blue commodore. The stranger opened the back seat door and allowed Dean to pull himself in. After Dean had managed to hall himself inside, he closed the door behind him.

The stranger opening the driver's seat door and opening it, a terrible screeching sound coming with it. Dean put his hands over his ears, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard. It reminded him of Ms' Cameron at one of his schools he had attended back when he was still in East Texas. He could even picture her long sharp nails clawing the board, the sound filling his ears with a terrifying screech. Once the guy got into the car, he slammed it behind him, this time there wasn't a screech, just one shift glide of the door.

"Thanks for this, I really appreciate this. Is there any way I could repay you?" Dean said, slowly, his head resting backwards. His face slowly swelling up from where he had been slapped.

"Nah, were good." He adjusted the rear-view mirror and turned on the ignition, a lovely purring roar coming from the engine.

"Sorry, I don't think I introduced myself. I'm Dean. Dean Winchester"

"Hey Dean, I'm Mitchell. Mitchell Blake nice to meet you." Mitchell turned on the right indicator and pulled out onto the road. Slowly turning around the corner and out of sight.

- - - - -

Sam paced the around the motel room. Dean had been gone for over seven hours. As soon as he mentioned the word 'Mara' he noticed how Dean froze. Had he come across one of these creatures before? What wasn't he telling him? So many questions were passing through Sam's head and velocity speed.

I guess Dean had a right to be angry at him; lately Sam hadn't been speaking to him much...he had been keeping a lot of things to himself lately. Ever since yellow eyes had died the nightmares had stopped. No more premonitions, nothing, they'd stoped. But since then, there had been this voice in the back of his mind. As if it was calling out to him. Every waking second the voice spoke to him, trying to tell him what to do.

_Come on Sam, how long are you going to put up with him? You know what he's like. He's a monster; he's going to hell Sam. And nothing you can do on this pathetic earth can stop that. No spell or demon will help you. Why not just put him out of his misery now. Feel his warm blood slowly pour out over his skin sinking into the ground below. Rip his eyes out of their sockets. Slice his neck open and watch him struggle, watch him try and speak though the blood. _

The voice was so real, so convincing. And that's what scared Sam the most. The never ending voice was driving him insane. He didn't know he could take it much longer.

Even in Sam's sleep, it was there, slowly ticking away at the back of his mind.

_Now's a perfect chance, he's asleep. All you have to go is grab the gun and shot him, he won't even feel a thing, just put the gun up to his head and squeeze the trigger. He will never know what hit him. _

Sam wanted to tell Dean about it. But what was he suppose to say? 'Hey Dean, how are you? Oh by the way, I've been meaning to tell you. I've got this voice in my head saying to kill you.' It was ridiculous. As much as he wanted to tell Dean, he was afraid too. Before Dad had died, he had told Dean that if Sam might ever go to the dark side, to kill him. And if Sam told him this, who's to say he wouldn't?

Sam sat down on his bed, cupping his head between his hands. The time bomb in his head still ticking away. Where could Dean be? He should of been back by now. The motel was situated six miles away from the main town, too far way to walk so it was impossible to go look for him. No doubt he had found a nice woman to chat up. Right now was in a small cheap motel room getting it off with her. Sam pulled himself off the bed and started undressing himself. No point worrying, Dean could take care of himself. But he was worried, not for Dean's sake, but for his own also. But nothing could be done about it now. Sam slipped off his jeans, and pulled on a pair of boxers which he had grabbed from out of his duffle bag which was put under his bed. After carefully placing his used cloths back in the bag, he lay back on the bed and turned off the light. Staring up at the ceiling, he closed his eyes. Hoping, just hoping that Dean was alright.

_- - - - - _

Sarah was still fuming. The nerve of that guy grabbing her arse like that. What did he think she was? A free meal probley. "With every purchase you get a free-"She stopped there, even the thought of it made her shiver. It must of been four' o'clock now, the only reason she happened to be out was because she had got a call from her friend's daughter Alice. She wasn't sure what to make of it. Alice was only nine years old. She had long black hair with sparkling hazel eyes. She was the spitting image of her mother. She had gotten a phone call from her about forty-five minutes ago, she had been crying. Sarah had taught Alice her phone number if she ever wanted to talk to her. But she never used it. Until tonight that is. She had sounded so frightened, said something about a monster, and that she had heard mummy and daddy scream. Sarah didn't have a car at the moment; her boyfriend had taken it for repairs so she had to walk all the way. The sky was getting a tiny bit brighter now, daylight wasn't far off. She stopped in front of the house. The yellow paint reflecting the light from the street lamps. She pulled open the iron gate and pulled it back behind her. She walked up to the front door getting ready to knock on it, but it was opened by a small terrified child.

"Monsters." She cried running into Sarah's arm.

"There, there. I'm sure everything's fine, where are mum and dad?" She combed her fingers through the child's hair.

"In there room, but they won't answer the door! I heard them scream Sarah.." Alice buried her tear stained face into Sarah's arm. Wanting to get out of the cold she carried the child inside. Putting her on the couch. All the lights were flickering.

"Now, you stay here while I go get mum and dad okay?" She kneeled down in front of Alice and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Can you do that for me?"

"I-I think so.."

"That's a brave girl. Now stay here." Sarah left Alice on the couch, and headed towards Paul and Naomi's bedroom. There room was the last on the right at the end of the corridor. The door was locked. "Hello, Naomi? Paul? It's Sarah. I've just come to check if you're alright." She knocked on the door. No response. "Is anybody in there?" She knocked again, no answer. Okay, something was wrong. She began frantically playing with the handle. Trying to loosen the lock open. No luck, it was jammed, she turned to go back to Alice. She heard a small _click! _behind her, the door creaking open. She slowly turned, a smell of something cooking drifted from the room. She slowly walked in and turned to the bed. There was Paul and Naomi, the skin melted, smoke coming off them, the hair burnt, blood soaked through the sheets. Sarah rushed out of the room trying to stop herself from vomiting. She rushed to the couch where Alice was still sitting.

"Are mummy and daddy okay?" She asked. But Sarah couldn't reply, she just held Alice tightly in her arms praying that this was all just a nightmare.


	5. Overcast

**Overcast**

_Think back to when you experienced that first thunderstorm as a child. The sound of a new noise bellowing throughout the sky, you were most likely terrified. We see it as a flash of light followed by a loud noise, but children see it as something to be afraid of. Underneath every storm though there is a silver lining, but with every silver lining, it dosn't come without a cost. _

The first clap of thunder echoed over the cliff face like cannon fire, sending gulls shrieking into the dark, brooding sky. Out across the waves a bright fork of lightning lit up the purple clouds on the horizon, and with another ominous rumble of thunder, the rain swept in from the sea.

Carl Jenkins looked up in despair and struggled with the hood of his jacket as a gust of wind swirled the rain around him. He glowed angrily at the sky as the rain became a torrent, and cursed his luck.

The weather had been fine until a few minutes ago, so much for his holiday. When he left his flat back in Hayward the sun had been shining and his spirits had been high. He should have known his fortunes were going to change as soon as he saw the boiling clouds overhead yesterday morning. It was typical. Every trip he had made to the coast of Ocean Gate was the same. Paying the toll was like putting coins into a launderette washing machine: no sooner had they clunked into the slot than the water started to pour.

The brochure advertising the holiday had fallen out of the local newspaper back in Hayward seemed ideal at the time. The photographs of the bays and cliff tops looked idyllic, but it had been a paragraph about the fishing that had finally convinced Carl to pick up the phone and book.

His father had been a great fisherman. Old family holidays had always started with a regular routine of unpacking long canvas bags from the attic, checking rods and reels, sprucing up floats. The entire exercise fascinated Carl and there had always been that extra thrill of danger when his father untied the small pouch filled with gleaming hooks, pointing out sternly that they were not to be touched under any circumstances.

Not that he would of gone anywhere near them. The wicked barbs on the tips had terrified him, always curling his hands into fists so there was no chance of one of those metal spikes getting near his fingers.

Raising his head, Carl looked up at the dark brooding sky that now loomed low overhead. The long, tangled line of rocks along the coast that looked so pretty in the sunlight had taken on a harsh jagged feel, the waves boiling angrily along their edge sending spray high into the air.

Carl shivered in his jacket. The rain was icy cold and the wind was starting to cut right through him. Another loud crack of thunder made him jump, he should be leaving now. With a deep sigh, he started to reel in his line, wincing as lightning arced across the waves. Carl reached out for one of the canvas bags to grab the container where he kept his sinkers. Shaking the rain from his eyes, Carl groped around in the sodden bag. He gave a sudden cry as he felt a searing pain.

He whipped his hand back from the bag, tears of agony welling in his eyes, struggling not to let the rod clatter down the rocks and into the swirling sea. Blood streamed down his hand, diluted by the lashing rain, and he could see the gleaming end of one of the fish hooks protruding through the tip of his thumb.

Stumbling to his feet, Carl tried to wedge the rod under his arms, turning his back to the wind and pulling at the hook. He felt sick and dizzy. All the nightmares about fishhooks that had haunted him as kid suddenly threatened to overwhelm him. The hook was buried quite deep; there was no way he was going to be able to pull it free without tearing out a good portion of his flesh with it.

His stomach heaved and for a moment he thought he might faint. He tried to slow his breathing. He was being stupid. It was just a fishhook, for God's sake. He was a grown man, not a frightened kid. There was a pair of pliers back in the car. All he would have to do was snip off the barb and the rest of the hook would slide out easily. The cold was already numbing his hand, dulling the pain. He tried to wipe the blood from his palm, fumbling in his pockets for a handkerchief.

Then two things happened at once: a child's laughter, shockingly close, made him stumble back in alarm, and at the same time the rod jerked in his arms, bending sharply as something heavy hauled on the line. Carl struggled to keep his footing on the rain slick grass as the tug on the rod became an insistent pressure, the reel spinning uncontrollably. The laughter came again as a tiny shape appeared out of the rain. A small child, a young girl no more than six or seven years old, dressed in pink nightgown with ponies imprinted on it clutching a bedraggled soft toy, stared down at him through the downpour. The girl raised a pale hand, pointing at Carl and giggled, the wind swirling the sound eerily across the cliff tops.

Carl felt a sudden chill of fear as he realised that the child wasn't pointing towards him, but past him at something in the water. The line continued to unwind wildly, the noise from the reel now a high-pitched scream. As Carl started to turn, the rod was wrenched violently from his grip, sending him sprawling.

With a guttural, bubbling roar, something vast and glistening emerged from the raging ocean. Carl stared in disbelief as the thing clawed its way up on the rocks, waves breaking on its broad back. It was huge, well over two meters tall, its skin a mass of barnacle covered heavy plates and iridescent scales, a patch work of different bright colours altogether for any creature Carl had seen before. Its head was squat and crested, with spines emerging directly from its shoulders. The jaw worked spasmodically, as if struggling to draw breath, its eyes glowing a deep fiery red. The creature hauled itself over the rocks with four muscled arms, claws gouging out great lumps as it walked across the rocks.

The red eyes fixed on him as the creature threw its head back giving a bellowing roar. Bright tongues of blame burned in its throat, as if at its centre was a vast ball of fire. Steam hissed around it as the rain boiled on its skin. Carl started to scrabble away, but the creature bounded forward, looming over him shrieking in triumph.

As it raised one huge paw in the air, Carl realised with horror that its claws were barbed and metallic, like fishhooks. He closed his arm as a huge arm swept down and was suddenly aware of a sharp pain, and then there was nothing but the sound of the rain, and sea, and the laughter of a small child, slowly fading.

- - - - -

Sam woke up trying to prevent himself from screaming. That couldn't have been a vision, it couldn't have been. They'd stoped ages ago. But if it was a vision, what did it have anything to do with Hayward? Nothing was making sense.

'_It makes sense all right Sammy boy,' _the voice in his head replied.

"Go away! You're just the result of all this stress lately, you don't exist! Go away!" Sam said to the empty room, getting off the bed. It was now at least 8am, the sun shone its way through a tiny crack in the curtain.

'_Oh, but Sam. I do exist, and you know it,' _Sam was scared at his own thoughts reply to him in his voice. But it no longer sounded like Sam. Something had taken his voice, manipulating it for its own purpose. '_Nothing you can say will ever get rid of me, because there's nothing to get rid of. You're saying this, and one day it'll drive you insane, and eventually I'll take over and bring the end to everything and everyone you have ever cared about.' _The voice was pure evil, like a hoarse whisper in his ear.

"SHUT UP!" Sam screamed, closing his eyes trying to block out the sound the filled his head.

- - - - -

Mitchell Blake started cooking breakfast, bacon and eggs this morning. Dean was sleeping soundly on the couch in the living room. It has taken some convincing to his wife that this man was perfectly safe, that he needed someplace to stay for the night. That was until he pulled out a gun which he had concealed in the back of his jeans, and now laid on the glass table next to the couch.

The aroma from the kitchen made its way to Dean's nostrils, perking his senses. Dean arose as if in a trance, followed by a loud thump. He had fallen off the couch, and was now spread-eagled in a twisted heap on the floor.

Mitchell rushed from the kitchen into the living room to see Dean gather himself off the floor. He was clutching his head; most likely still had a hangover from last night.

"Are you okay mate?" Mitchell asked to make sure he wasn't hurt.

It took a few seconds for Dean to reply, but finally managed to get some words out.

"I think so; my limbs are still intact if that's what you mean," he replied rubbing his head where he had connected with the wooden floor.

"Good, well I'm making breakfast now. So if you don't mind, could you put a shirt on? My daughter will be awake any second now and I wouldn't want her seeing you partially naked." Michelle examined Dean's body. Scars of all shapes and sizes seemed to cover his tanned skin.

"I'd best be going anyway; I wouldn't want to be any bother any more. Thanks for offer though. But I need to find my car, I hope it's alright..."

"No, I insist. It's the least I could do. And you look like you could do with a bite." At that very second Dean's stomach grumbled.

At that moment a small girl appeared from out of the hallway that connected the kitchen and living room. Her pink nightgown reflected bright in the morning light. Dean could make out that the figures on it were ponies.

"Hello." The girl said in a childish voice to Dean, though could have sworn there had been a slight hint of fear in her voice but was quickly replaced by her beautiful smile.

"Dean, this is my daughter Ali."

"Nice to meet you," Dean said as kindly as he could, which was harder than he thought.

"Daddy, I'm hungry is breakfast ready yet? It smells like it." she asked fluttering her eyelids innocently. The smell of something burning filled the room.

"Oh crap! I left the stove running. I'll be right back!" Mitchell left running for the kitchen, leaving Dean and Ali alone in the living room.

Ali's sweet innocent face changed into a fierce angry stare as soon as Mitchell left the room.

"It's almost time, and if you think someone like you is going to get in our way, think again," Ali grinned an evil grin that covered her entire face to every corner. That couldn't have been her voice, it couldn't have. In one swift movement, Ali pushed past Dean swiping up his gun off the desk. The last thing Dean heard was the gun fire as his head slammed against the glass desk in a hideous crack.

* * *

**For everyone who has been reading this story, I am extremely sorry that I havn't updated this in such a long time. I've been extremely busy lately, and I forgot all about this story until the other day. And I promise that I will try and update soon! I'm also writing a Doctor Who story right now also, so If you like Doctor Who you might like to check it out. Again, I am extremely sorry. And yes =P Cliff hanger was done on purpose. Reviews are loved. **


	6. Descending

**A/N: Like I promised, here's the next chapter. I think I'm going to have to rate this story M from now on. Because I have a habbit of writing stories darker as I go. It's a habbit, but I like suffering. In a non psycotic way.**

**Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story and enjoying it. It's nice to know that people like it! Now please be aware that I don't have a Beta, I did, but that person took over two weeks to Beta one thing. So if anyone out there would like to be my Beta leave me a message or write it in a Review. Anyway, Enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

Descending

_Some days are special. Some days are so, so blessed. Some days, no body dies at all. Now and then, every day in a very long while, every day in a million days when the wind stands fair, everybody lives. Suns may burn, planets may die but in the midst of it all. There's always hope._

The room was nothing but an inky blackness, like a river of thick colourless water. Dean couldn't make out anything through the blanket of darkness. Something itchy protruded though his arm, Dean moved his hand to the shape, it was some sort of needle. He gasped as he ripped the piece of metal out of his arm and threw it to the floor. Wherever he was it was quiet, extremely quiet, the only sound was a slow, pulsing sound. With time it grew faster and louder, filling his ears. He moved to cover his ears to block out the pulsing sound. But couldn't, his right hand was handcuffed to the side of the bed. Blood pounded through his head painfully, a material had been wrapped around his head. But it was soaked with blood. The pulsing sound grew louder, and then he realized what it was, a heart monitor.

"Hello? Is anybody out there?" Dean called out, disorientated.

Dean heard someone rush into the room. "Doctor he's awake!" said a soothing female voice.

Another person strode into the room with a quick pace, obviously a man's, the footsteps were too heavy and loud to be a woman's. "Can you hear me sir?" the Doctor asked.

"Yea-yeah, I can here you," Dean paused for a second. "Where am I?" he tried moving his head but it was too painful.

"You're at Naeve Hospital," he replied. "You were brought here this morning by a Mr Mitchell Blake; you attempted suicide at his house in front of his daughter. Mr Blake admits that you were very drunk and depressed last night, so he let you stay at his house the night. You shot yourself and ended up cracking your skull on a glass table. Does that sound about right?"

There was a long pause. Suicide? He didn't try to commit suicide. Where did they get that idea from?

Then it came to him, Ali. She must have made up a story to make them believe that he had tried to kill himself, the little bitch. Who wouldn't believe a child? It was wrong, so wrong.

"I didn't try to commit suicide, It was the girl, she shot me," as soon as the words came out Dean knew how unbelievable it sounded. "You have to believe me."

Dean could hear the Doctor scribble some notes onto a piece of paper. The woman was somewhere over to Deans left shuffling through some draws.

"I believe you, Mr Winchester. But you have to co-operate with us otherwise you won't be able to get better. You have a long recovery ahead of you, so I suggest you get some rest," he clearly didn't care about Dean.

"Then if you believe me, why am I handcuffed to the bed?" Dean asked tugging at the handcuffs.

"That's just a precaution," he replied back with a finality that kept Dean from asking anything else.

Dean tried to open his eyes but he couldn't. The darkness was still there, drowning him in it. Then he realised his eyes were open. They'd been open all along

"I can't see!" Dean panicked.

The Doctor shone a torch into Dean's eyes. "You hit your head pretty hard on the table, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. But your occipital lobe suffered severe swelling, we tried to prevent any further damage but we were too late. The damage had already been done by the time the ambulance had arrived. You will never be able to see again."

- - - - -

Sam was worried. He'd searched all over town for Dean; it had taken him a good part of the day. He had managed to find the Impala outside a pub called the 'Viking Draft', abandoned. Dean would never leave the Impala out in the street; he was frightened enough just leaving it parked outside a motel.

After hours of searching through the deserted city streets, Dean was nowhere to be found. This scared Sam, was it possible we went to find the creature himself? Was he hurt?

Sam turned the Impala down another street. At the very end were about half a dozen police cars and an ambulance. The little yellow house was swarmed with policeman. At the front gate was a stunningly beautiful brunette who was answering questions to a police officer. In her arms was a little girl, she had night black hair that went half way down her back.

Carefully slowing the car down, Sam parked the Impala behind a Four-Wheel Drive. He hopped out of the car slamming the door behind him and walked down to the crime scene.

Pulling out his fake FBI badge he made his way through the officers.

One of the policemen was still asking the brunette questions. "I know this is hard, but is there anything you can remember? Anything at all that might help us in this investigation."

"I've already been through this with two other officers," she was almost crying now. The little girl in her arms had her face buried in the woman's shoulder. "I'm not going through this again! I just want to go home and look after Alice until someone can take proper care of her."

This was his cue. Sam began manoeuvring until he was right next to the officer. "Terrance Night, FBI. I was ordered to come here to assist this investigation," he lied. The officer examined the badge that Sam had shoved in front of his face and turned back to the woman.

"I'm Lieutenant Sergeant Eric Lawns. So I take it you know what happened?" the officer asked Sam.

"I wasn't exactly told anything. I was hoping that you'd fill me in on all the details," Sam lied again.

The Lieutenant Sergeant hesitated for a few seconds, but eventually started filling Sam in on the details.

"Approximately eleven hours ago, a couple were literally boiled alive. There was no sign of forced entry, and no sign of foul play. The coroner suspects that they died due to some sort of acid being injected into their blood. But he's not sure. None of us have ever seen something like this in our lives. This is the fifth or sixth murder this week. There is no connection between any of the deceased. What is going on?" the Lieutenant Sergeant starred at Sam hoping for an answer, but he had none.

"I don't know, this is the first time I've come across something like this. And that says a lot," Sam sighed.

"Well a fat lot of good you are then!" yelled the brunette.

Sam turned around to see her walking towards him. "What's your name?"

"Sarah," she snapped.

"You found the bodies, right?"

Her face went from angry to scared as the memories came flooding back. The twisted and melted faces of what use to be Naomi and Paul filled her mind. "Yeah," she struggled to get out.

Sam turned back to the Lieutenant Sergeant. "If you don't mind, I think this woman needs so rest. I'll take her home while you continue on with your investigation. Is that OK?"

The Lieutenant Sergeant thought it through and finally said that is was fine. Sarah seemed relieved to get away from the house.

Sarah carried Alice through the police following Sam. After a minute of two they made it back to the Impala.

"This is your car?" she stared at the car, a strange looked encompassed her face.

"Not really, It's my brothers," he said. Sarah seemed wary to hop in the car.

"You're not the police, are you?" she asked.

An awkward silence followed. Only to be filled with the voice in Sam's head.

'_You better kill her, Sammy. Any moment now she's going to run to the police. Go on, kill her! Before it's too late,' _the voice was practically screaming at him. But Sam ignored it as much as he could.

"No, I'm. Me and my brother came here to find what's been killing there people and stop it," he paused. "For good," Sam took a deep breath hoping she believed him.

"It's not human. It can't be. What I saw..." fear swept her eyes. "What I saw was impossible. What I heard was Impossible."

Alice took her head away from Sarah's shoulders. "It was the faeries! They killed my mummy and daddy."

Sam walked over to Alice and Sarah in an attempt to comfort them. "What makes you say that, darling?" Sam asked kindly, his voice soothing to both of their ears.

"Ssh! They'll hear you," she looked around, making sure nothing could hear them. "Their everywhere."

Sam looked around, but couldn't see a thing. "I think there hiding right now. What makes you think the faeries hurt your mum and dad?"

"It's my fault. That's why there hurt," she started to cry again, a tear forming in her eyes. But Sam wiped it away with his finger.

"Why would you think something like that?" Sarah asked.

"Because they told me it was," she buried her head back into Sarah's shoulder.

The voice in Sam's head was louder than ever. It was screaming at him, Sam felt like he was being ripped apart from inside-out. All of a sudden it stopped, to be replaced by an evil laughter.

'_You won't be able to stop us, Sam. We have control now, and nothing you or your brother do now can get in our way.' _Then the screaming continued.

That was all it took for Sam's mind to crack. The only part of Sam that was left was a deep madness, the oncoming storm had arrived.


	7. Sight

**A/N: I can't say how thrilled and gobsmacked I am that ths story has been getting so much attention lately. Thank you to cuddygirl18 and Bellbird for their reviews. And for all of you who put my story on alert and or faverioted it. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, I'm trying to move the story along as quickly as possible! Fell free to review, It's appreciated. Anyway, Enjoy.**

* * *

**Sight**

_People say seeing is believing. But for some, that's not entirely true. When you lose your sight, those memories of what you have seen fade so much, you probably wouldn't even recognize yourself any more. You would be able to smell the rain before it drops but you can't watch it fall. You could feel the sun on your face but never see it rise or set. We all treasure our sight but we also deprive it. Once we lose it, you will never be able to get it back. All those beautiful colours you once knew will be gone. Then you have to face the blackness alone, with nothing to help you at all... _

Dean lay stiffly on the bed, shedding silent tears. The world around him now was so much darker, literally more so than anything he had encountered before, and he was scared; scared of the nightmare that grew in front of his eyes, the endless void of eternity spiralling down and down, plunging into darkness. Dean clutched the hospital blanket closer to his body, the irritating fabric rubbing against his skin. Fear filled his sightless eyes. He was more afraid than he had ever been.

A clatter of wheels brought Dean back to reality as one of the nurses brought in a bed into the room.

"Okay," the male nurse said, his voice sounding serious. "You've had a long surgery, now you need a long rest. I'll have the doctor come check on you in a few hours, OK?"

"Yes, I understand..." replied a child's voice in a deep sigh.

The nurse left the room quietly, closing the door glass door behind him gently.

After a few minutes the boy spoke up.

"Don't I know you?"

Dean wiped away a tear from his eyes.

"I wouldn't know kid. Just leave me alone please," he snapped.

"Wait a minute. You're that FBI guy from yesterday!" Joshua said in sudden excitement. It took Dean a few minutes to remember.

"Joshua?"

"Yep! That's me. The one and only…" His voice drifted off as he examined Dean.

"Did you have an operation?"

"Last night, they fixed my arm," Joshua answered. "I should be able to go in a few days." He hesitated for a second. "What about you? How come you're in here?"

"Where exactly is _here_?" Dean remarked.

"Intensive care ward," Joshua replied with confusion. "Again, how come you're in here?"

"Long story," said Dean.

"Well, we've got all night." Joshua's voice was starting to become slightly shaky as he began to realise something was very wrong.

"Look, kid, no offence, but I planned on getting some sleep, if that's okay," Dean snapped back unintentionally.

Joshua froze, and when he spoke his voice reflected his fear. It was so tangible that Dean could almost taste it.

"Please stay awake."

"No, really," Dean objected, though he sounded fractionally less certain. "I need sleep."

"It's better if you stay awake." Dean heard Joshua jump off his bed, his feat slapping against the floor as he walked over to Dean's bed and whispered in his ear. "That's when they come out," he said as he leaned in closer.

"Who?"

"The monsters."

He needed to call someone. This was too much for him to handle anymore. With his free hand, Dean patted around the bed and side-desk in hope that he could find his mobile.

"Hey, do you see a phone anywhere?" Dean asked Joshua, while still searching for the phone with his free hand.

"No, sorry. Hey, are you okay?"

Joshua finally looked closer at Dean, and for the first time registered his sightless eyes. He held up three fingers on his left hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Dean took a wild guess.

"One."

"You're blind!" Joshua burst out in a mixture of shock and confusion.

"And we have a winner! Thank you for pointing that out. I think I figured that out already, you little prick!" Suddenly, Dean realised how loud he was yelling, and grimaced apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't mean it to come out like that..."

"That's okay....What happened? You were fine yesterday," he pulled up a plastic chair from around the corner and sat next to the bed.

"I got shot, and I cracked my head on a table," he paused. "Tell me honestly, how bad does it look?"

Joshua looked up at the blood-soaked bandage that was wrapped carelessly around Dean's head. He could see a depression at the top of his head where it had struck the table.

"It looks kind of nasty," Joshua admitted reluctantly. "There's pus and everything coming out of it."

He paused, almost as an afterthought, and turned surreptitiously to make sure no one was coming to check on him. No one was. Dean thought for a moment, trying to decide what to do.

"I need you too to me a favour. Is there a piece of paper and pen anywhere in here?"

Dean felt around in the hope that there was something on the bedside desk that he could have used, but with no luck.

"There's some over the other side of the room," Joshua replied, quickly getting out of the chair and striding across the room. He pulled his medical chart and the attached pen out of the pocket hanging at the end of his bed. Rushing back, he passed the clipboard with the pen and paper to Dean.

Dean began writing a phone number on the paper. His writing slanted and overlapped but Joshua was just able to make it out what it read.

"I need you to call that number for me. Just say it's a message from Dean Winchester and he needs their help. Can you do that?"

Dean looked directly at Joshua, and his sightless eyes pierced straight through him. Joshua nodded eagerly, and then spoke up quickly as he remembered that Dean couldn't see his response.

"Yeah, sure. I'll sneak out and use the phone in the hall."

"Thanks," Dean said with a forced smile which rapidly slipped back into remorseful sadness. He gently took the piece of paper from his hand.

"No problem. I'll be back in a minute."

- - - - -

Joshua carefully opened the glass door only a crack, just enough to get his head around the corner to make sure no one was coming. The nurse was nowhere in sight. It was at least 8pm now; the corridors were dark and illuminated only by the dim florescent globes on the ceiling.

He glanced back at Dean; he was staring at the direction of the door waiting for him to move out into the corridor. Why was he helping him? He had only met him once when they came to ask him about the nurse who had died. This was weird, too weird. What was going on?

Slowly and steadily, Joshua closed the door behind him and walked down the hall towards the phone.

The ward was almost completely silent. A few of the older patients were snoring. One guy was hooked up to some sort of kidney dialysis machine. The machine was running at full power, the mechanics vibrated throughout the air. On the right there was an old lady, and her skin was red and swollen. Her entire face was hardly visible under her puffy skin. It was impossible to see her eyes, as a great chunk of skin had folded over the top of them.

One of the nurses on duty came out of the room ahead, and Joshua quickly ducked into one the room on his left. The nurse's footsteps echoed loudly down the hallway and Joshua quickly hid underneath one of the beds in momentary panic. Once the nurse had gone past did Joshua finally pick himself up off the floor; only then did he realise that the bed he had hidden under was occupied.

It was just a small boy; a poor kid who couldn't have been any more than eight years old. There was an IV hooked up to his arm, saline travelling along the tube to disappear under the boy's skin. Joshua turned back towards the door.

"Who are you?"

The unexpected voice startled Joshua, and it took an effort not to yelp. The boy had woken up; his voice was raspy followed by a few violent coughs. Joshua quickly strode over to the kids bed.

"Hush," Joshua whispered. "My name's Joshua. What's your name?"

A couple more violent coughs followed.

"Kevin. What were you doing under my bed?" he asked innocently.

"Hiding," Joshua answered simply. "I, uh… I'm playing a game with the nurses."

Joshua peered out into the hallway. The nurse was busy checking up on the old man further down the corridor.

"Cool! Can I hide too?" Kevin was getting exited now, and as his excitement escalated, so too did the volume of his voice, and that was definitely not a good thing for Joshua. The nurse exited the room she had been in and began walking back up the hall.

"Crap!" Joshua growled, and turned quickly back to the kid. "Can you do me a BIG favour?"

"Okay," Kevin replied excitedly.

"I want you to start screaming and yelling, like you're having a nightmare, so the nurse will come in here. That way I can get to the phone. That, um… That's my safe zone, okay? If I can get to the phone, I win the game." He quickly poked his head back out the door. She was four rooms away, and slowly moving closer. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah!" Kevin enthused. He seemed genuinely excited, but his enthusiasm was quickly replaced by a deep throaty cough.

Joshua ducked behind the aqua curtain that was next to the door making sure that no part of him was visible.

"Now," he whispered to Kevin.

At that moment, Kevin began kicking and screaming like a baby. He was pretty good at it too. He threw his pillow to the floor and kicked the blanket off him. In seconds the nurse came running in right past the aqua curtain. Joshua waited a moment before quickly pushing the curtain aside and slipping out the door, and down the hall to the phone.

It looked further away than he had thought, but he finally managed to reach the phone. Joshua picked up the phone receiver and started dialling the number on the piece of paper. He got to the last number and stopped. It was too hard to make out. Was that a seven, or a one? No, he decided finally, it was definitely a one. Joshua pressed one, and the phone began to ring. After a few seconds a male voice answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Umm, hi," Joshua replied, he didn't know what else to say.

"Okay, who is this? How did you get this number?" the voice asked in a fierce dangerous tone that told Kevin that this was a guy not to be messed with.

"Dean Winchester gave me your number. He needs your help."

"What happened?" the man sighed, as if he had expected no less.

"I don't exactly know. But he can't see, he's gone blind."

The statement was followed by a few seconds' silence.

"What's your name kid?"

"Joshua. Who are you?"

"My name's Bobby. You don't need to know anything else. You just go back, and tell that idjit that I'm on my way."

With that, the phone hung up.


	8. Insanity

**A/N: I'm so sorry for not updating in a while. I've been doing exams and tests for the past few weeks and I've been really stressed out. Anyway here's the next chapter.**

**_Warning!_ This chapter got a bit dark and gruesome than I expected. It's not graphic (Well I don't think It is), But it involves torture of sorts. If you do not wish to or you do not feel as if you can read this, do not continue on. Otherwise enjoy, and I promise this will be the only chapter like this. Well, with any luck. Enjoy, reviews are loved.**

**

* * *

**

**Insanity**

_When the world goes mad, one must accept madness as sanity; since sanity is, in the last analysis, nothing but the madness on which the whole world happens to agree. But we do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution. Some are born mad. Some remain so. _

Sarah pulled Alice closer to her as the car started to move alongside the road. The wet gravel spitting up droplets of water, leaving a spray of fine mist left behind the car to disappear into the stormy night. Thunder erupted from the sky; Alice flinched in fear gripping Sarah tighter.

After a few minutes, Sarah had finally agreed to let Sam take her home. Though something was different now, he didn't seem the same as he had when she first met him. Another crack of thunder roared through the endless sky. Sam's face lit by a flash of lightning as he drove the Impala. His eyes no longer belonged to the kind and gentle man she had met only an hour ago. They were host to something else. She looked at his hands as they gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles were pale white as if he'd been gripping the wheel with all his strength. The rain outside pelted heavily onto the window, you could hardly see outside.

Alice flinched as a bright flash of lightning filled the air. "It's okay, I'm here," Sarah tried to calm down Alice, she was shivering, the car was extremely cold.

"Do you mind if you turn on the heating?" Sarah asked Sam, who didn't even look at her.

"Doesn't work," his voice was icy as the car itself.

Sarah adjusted Alice in her arms so she could remove her jacket. Placing it on Alice, she began to close her eyes and began sleeping in her lap. She turned to Sam.

"How much further? We should have been there by now, my house is only on the other side of town," she was beginning to get worried. "Are you sure you know where you are?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure where I am. Very sure," his voice was as loud and frightening as the thunder outside.

The engine began to rattle as the car started to slow down, finally coming to a halt. Sarah strained to look out the window; she could just make out the shape of her house .

"Are we there yet?" Alice said rubbing her eyes, her head popping out from under the jacket.

"I don't know," she looked at Sam who was still staring out into the distance."Sam, are we there?"

"Yes," he replied vaguely.

"Great," she paused for a second. "Umm, I know this may seem like a lot to ask. But do you mind staying with us for the night? I understand if you don't want to. I just don't want to stay the night alone after what I've seen," which was true. She was scared, and more so of the man in front of her. But she felt safer with someone then being by herself with Alice.

Sam's body seemed to loosen quickly, too quickly for her own liking. "I would love to, you go inside. I'll be with you in a minute; I need to get some stuff out of the trunk."

"Okay," she said uneasily. She quickly opened the door to the Impala to be flooded with rain, the water drenching her entire body in seconds. Swiftly she picked up Alice in her arms with the jacket still covering her and ran to the front door of her house.

Fumbling around in her pockets she pulled out her keys and opened the door, her shoes leaving wet footprints upon the oak floorboards. She carefully placed Alice on the couch in the living room, placing a blanket on her from the clean laundry pile she often kept in the living room to sort out later.

She left the room quietly in hope that she would go to sleep. Sarah tried to turn on the hallway light, but the storm must have short circuited the fuse box. There was nothing she could do about it now, she would just have to deal with it in the morning.

She heard the front door close as Sam came in with a duffle bag. Sam appeared from around the corner which lead to the front door and stood in the middle of the hall. The dark void behind him seemed to swallow up everything in sight. Water dripped off his body from all over.

"You can stay in the spare bedroom, It's just across from the bathroom down the hall," she struggled to get out.

He didn't say a thing, he just walked past her. A large puddle of water lay where he had been standing. It was too late to get the mop, and she would probably slip in the dark. Pulling herself together she softly tip-toed back to the living room were Alice slept.

Alice was sleeping soundly on the couch, her head resting gently on the armrest. Slipping on the other end of the couch, Sarah hopped in under the blanket and fell asleep.

- - - - -

A shadow loomed over Sarah as she slept. Sam watched her chest rise and fall as her breathe escaped her lungs. Her perfectly curved body there at his disposal. Slowly he pulled out a syringe from his duffle bag and stabbed the needle into her arm, injecting her with painkillers. Hunger filled Sam's eyes, the voice speaking to him, telling him what to do. He must obey his master. He must. Pulling the syringe out of her arm she began to toss and turn on the couch. Alice began to stir also. Sam pulled out another syringe and injected her with it. A few minutes later the two of them began to calm down. The heavy dose of painkillers was working its magic.

Pulling Sarah out off the couch, Sam swung her over his shoulder to the spare room. He had stripped the matrass off to leave behind the wire frame, bits of metal poked out on dangerous angles. Lifting her off his shoulders, Sam placed Sarah on the frame spreading her arms and legs to the four posts. Grabbing a pair of handcuffs from his duffle bag he cuffed her hands to the bed. She began to stir groggily; Sam pulled out two strips of long cloth and tied her feet to each post. The circulation in her feet was slowing down.

Sarah tried to move but couldn't. Her feet and arms bound to the bed, metal protruded her back drawing blood. "Wh-where am I?" her eyes were fully open now. She looked at Sam who was staring down at her, his eyes were no longer dark, they were grey. "What are you doing? Let me go!" the metal in her back began to bury its way further into her skin.

"Ssh, It's okay. Everything is going to be alright," he put a finger up to his mouth in a quiet gesture, while his other hand was placed on the end of the bed.

Her feet were begging to feel numb. "Let me go, please," she began to cry.

"No," he replied darkly. "You see, I can't do that."

He pulled out a kitchen knife from his duffle bag as he slowly made his way around to her face. Sam placed the knife tip up against her face, digging the sharp point into her skin. Her eyes full of fear, and he loved it.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this to someone." He slashed a shallow cut into her face from the corner of her eye to the bottom of her lip. She tried to scream but he placed his free hand over her mouth.

"Now, now. We can't have that now can we?" Sam placed the knife to her throat, tormenting her as she cringed in agony.

Pulling together her strength, she bit down hard on his hand that was clenched in her mouth. Sam tried to pull it out but she had too good a grip.

"You bitch! Let go!" Sam slapped her face hard from where he had cut her. She let him go in of her grasp.

"You son of a bitch! You lay one more finger on me and I'll bite it off," she screamed.

Sam examined his fingers where she had bitten him. "Oh, so you plan on biting it off now? Well I might have something to say about that."

In one quick movement Sam pulled the knife to her left hand and pushed the sharp blade into her thumb. Digging deep into the skin. She began to scream louder.

"Get off! Oh my god! Please stop!"

"This should teach you to threaten me you little bitch." Using his other hand, Sam pushed the blade further into her thumb passing the bone and at last through to the other side. Her thumb dropped to the floor as a steady stream of blood poured out from where her thumb had been. Then she fell unconscious. The last sound she heard was the fluttering of wings and the voice of a child.


	9. Hope

**A/N: To all of you out there who have been waiting for updates, I'm so sorry that It has taken me this long to write anything. At the moment, year 10 at school is loading me full of homework and I've had no time what so ever to write anything I've really wanted. So thank god for the holidays! ****With any luck, I'll get the rest done in the next week. I originally had this chapter done.. but I was a stupid idiot and left my USB in a computer at school and someone stole it, which left me devistated for ages because it had all the updates of my other stories on it to. So I hope this is okay.. anyway, enjoy! And again, I'm sorry for the well overdue update. Please be aware I had no beta for this chapter, so there's no doubt in my mind that you'll find gramatical errors everywhere. **

**

* * *

**

Hope

_In a world full of fear and darkness we must learn to hold on to those we love and trust most. Because if we let go just for one moment, we could lose everything we've ever loved. But one thing always remains even in the most doubtful of situations, a little glint of hope._

"Dammit Dean! Why didn't you call me sooner?" Bobby had arrived early the next morning soaking wet. The storm that brewed overhead hadn't let up throughout the night; it seemed to be getting worse.

With a collapsed sigh of exhaustion, Dean laid his head back on the pillows looking out into the void ignoring Bobby's outburst.

"I was going too, okay? But things just seemed to get out of hand..."

"Out of hand? Out of hand! This is more than just _"Out of hand" _Dean. We're family Dean, and at any sign of trouble, you're supposed to call me. You're not some kind of Superhero in tights as much as you seem to think you are. You're a human being, and you can't keep going gallivanting around like this anymore. Because of stupidity, you're blind," Bobby opened his mouth to continue, but slowly closed it again.

Deep down, Dean knew he was right. After all these years it always came down to the same thing, that he believed that he could save everyone, even though he knew he couldn't.

After a few seconds of silence, Dean finally managed to whisper through the tears he was trying to hold back. "Is there any way to reverse this?"

"Maybe..." Bobby sighed as he sat down on the chair that rested next to the bed. "You said the creature you're dealing with is a Mara?"

"That's what Sam said. Speaking of which, have you seen him?"

Bobby shook his head, "Sorry, I haven't. I thought he would've been with you."

Dean cursed under his breath. "..We got into a fight the other night. I haven't seen him since." Even now he regretted his actions of what happened.

"You two girls are always fighting. If you keep it up, one of you will leave and never come back."

Trying to move the subject away, Dean diverted back to the topic that had ended him up in his current predicament. "The Mara?"

Bobby rolled his eyes at Dean's pathetic attempt to change the topic. Grabbing his duffel bag that he'd managed to sneak past the hospital staff with, he pulled out an old black leathered book.

"The Mara are ancient beings, no one really knows where they came from. But everywhere they're mentioned, one thing still remains constant, children. Over the past two hundred years of history, there have been about two sightings of Mara. The last one being 1912."

"There was one about ten years ago..." Dean reluctantly said.

Bobby gave Dean one of his many strange looks. "How do you know?"

"I was there... I lost a good friend..." he stopped thinking about trying to push the memories back into the furthest corner of his mind. "Anyway, continue."

"Would you like to talk about it?" Bobby asked hesitantly not sure how Dean would react.

Dean did nothing but shake his head in effort for Bobby to continue.

Clearing his throat, Bobby continued. "They're a physical manifestation, but can disappear in a blink of an eye, as if they were never there like a spirit. They're known as being called the Nightmare Children because that's exactly what they live to do, to use your nightmares against you, but in search for children called 'The Chosen Ones.' From what I can make out, these children are special to them and will do anything to protect them."

Bobby closed the book and put it back in his bag and waited for a response from Dean.

"How do you kill them?"

This was the one thing Bobby hadn't managed to come to an answer, mostly, because as far as he knew no one had ever managed to kill a Mara.

"No Idea."

Dean stared up at the ceiling, or what he knew was the ceiling and began to think. What they'd pieced together didn't make any sense. What did he know so far? The deaths were always done in a different way, and always during the night. But there was something else, he knew it. And it was right there in front of him staring at him in the face since the start. It was the children.

- - - - -

Across the room, Joshua had been eavesdropping throughout the entire time Bobby had arrived. Something wasn't right, and he could feel it. Even the fierce storm outside didn't feel right anymore, each passing hour it grew in unimaginable power as the rain and wind roared against the windows of the hospital.

"Joshua," a voice called from across the room. Joshua looked across to see Dean sitting back up on his bed.

"Yes?" he replied turning back to the window.

"Do you mind if you come over here? There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Joshua carefully got out of the hospital bed and slowly made his way across the room making sure none of the nurses saw him out of bed.

"Bobby, I'd like you to meet Joshua." Dean introduced them once Joshua made his way to Dean's bedside.

Bobby shook his hand and shook it. "So you're the one that called me?

Joshua just nodded, not sure what to say.

An awkward silence followed by a crack of lightning outside.

"Something about that storm doesn't feel right to me..." Joshua admitted.

"That's because it isn't a storm." Bobby said out of the blue, who was also looking out the window.

Dean went to scratch his head, but forgot that he was still handcuffed to the bloody bed. "What?"

"Well," Bobby begun, "Before I got here, I did some research into the local area for any signs of demonic activity. This storm didn't just come in. It appeared out of nowhere and its growing."

"But what for?" a hint of fear lingered in Joshua's voice.

"I don't know, but whatever the Mara happens to be up too, it's up to us to stop it. These things can destroy towns with one thought, and we can't let that happen."

Dean slammed his free fist onto the bed frame. "Well a lot of good I'll be, I'm blind Bobby. And on top of that, I'm handcuffed to this fucken bed because some bloody little girl shot me. Who might I add is probably the one the Mara are after."

Mustering all the strength he could, Dean pulled at the handcuffs until they started t cut into his wrist.

"Stop it now! The world isn't about to come crashing down Dean, and I think I know a way to get your sight back." Bobby snapped.

At that, Dean stopped. Quickly, Bobby grabbed a small pocket knife from his pocket and began picking the lock on the cuffs. A few seconds later a small but distinctive click filled the room. Dean pulled his hand away from the unlocked handcuffs and rubbed his wrist.

"What do you mean you know of a way to get my sight back?" Dean asked. If Joshua didn't know Dean was blind, he could have sworn that he'd seen a sparkle of life fill Dean's eyes for a moment.

"As you know, the Mara can create nightmares. But they also have the ability heal."

"Then let's get out of here and find them!" Dean yelped with excitement as he felt his way out of the bed, then stopped as his feet touched the floor. "What's the catch?"

"I figured you might ask," Dean could hear Bobby's face fill with doubt. "In order to get the Mara to heal you, it has to do it willingly. And that's not going to be easy seeing that it probably knows we're going to kill it."

That glint of hope that Joshua had seen before in Dean's eyes was now gone. An idea suddenly struck him. "Umm... I know I'm not an expert or anything about this sort of stuff, but you said before that these Mara are using the children to create the nightmares in search for this Chosen One. Right?"

"Yeah, that's the general idea." Bobby said curiously. "Go on."

Joshua continued his train of thought. "Well, if Dean's right and think this girl is the Chosen One why not use that to your advantage? I mean, you could use her as a bargaining chip or something." After a few seconds, Joshua realised how stupid that must seem. "Don't worry about it, it's a stupid idea."

"Actually," Dean slowly sat on the corner of the bed. "It's not a bad idea."

"It isn't?" replied Joshua stunned at his revelation.

"No as a matter of fact, it may just work. But first I need to find a way out of here," Dean smiled. "Got any more great idea's in that head of yours?"

Now it was Joshua's turn to smile.

- - - - -

One of the nurses on duty ran down the hall after hearing a sudden smash of glass. Turning around the corner, the glass door to the suicide patient that had arrived not long ago had been smashed down with one of the chairs.

Quickly open up the door, the female nurse got into the room to see Joshua shaking in the corner closest to the window. The bed where the suicide patient had been though was empty. The handcuffs dangling off the bed frame.

"There, there. It's okay, there's nothing to be afraid of." The nurse tried to comfort Joshua who was in some form of shock, he was shaking badly. "What happened?"

Joshua lifted his head from his knees and tried to speak. "He asked me to p-pick his pillow up for him so I did, next thing I knew he _grabbed _me. He'd managed to get his handcuffs off with the IV Drip... It was horrible! I-I..." Joshua started to rock backwards and forwards nervously as more of the nurses arrived to see what had happened.

The nurse held him tightly to her breasts. "It's okay, he's gone now. He won't hurt you again. Now, did he say where he was going?"

Joshua nodded his head slowly. "He said something about the roof, that he couldn't bare his life anymore."

"I need you to stay here while we go find him. Can you do that for me?" her voice was so calm.

"I-I think so..." he answered silently.

"That's a good boy," she helped him off the floor and ordered the other nurses to the roof. "I'll be back soon." And with that, she and all the other nurses rushed to the end of the hall towards the stairs.

Once all the nurses had left the floor, Joshua quickly knocked on the small toilet and shower block door that each room on the floor had built into it. "They're gone," he whispered as Dean and Bobby opened the door.

Bobby grabbed Dean by the arm and quickly pulled him out. "Thanks kid. You've done a lot to help."

"It's nothing really, just help Dean get better okay?" Joshua smiled slightly.

"I will, don't you worry about it." Bobby replied giving Joshua a nudge in his side.

Dean quickly knelt down and gave Joshua a hug, "Thanks for everything. Call me if you ever need anything okay?"

"I will," Joshua broke the hug and gave Dean a friendly punch in the arm. "Now get out of here."

And with that, Bobby lead Dean down the corridor finally disappearing down the emergency stairs, leaving Joshua alone the sound of fluttering wings somewhere close nearby.


End file.
